


Hard Limits

by fuzipenguin



Series: Full Spectrum [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Electricity Play, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Open Relationships, Other, Painplay, Roleplay, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 11:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6236806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet and Sideswipe's second session illuminates some things for Ratchet</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard Limits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dracoqueen22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/gifts).



> Happy birthday dracoqueen22!

                “I told you this would happen,” Ratchet growled, shoving Sideswipe’s face into the floor. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Always pushing boundaries and exploiting loopholes. Well, no more,” he said, standing up and replacing his hand on Sideswipe’s neck with a pede instead.

                “Tell me what you’re going to do to get back into my good graces, slave,” Ratchet instructed imperiously, surveying the other mech’s scored and fluid-smeared plating.

                Sideswipe whined, hands clenching into fists at his back. “I… I could suck your spike?”

                Ratchet shoved the tip of the electroprod against the exposed joint in Sideswipe’s right shoulder, causing him to cry out. “Boring. Try again. And what did I say about terms of address?!”

                The wand was moved towards Sideswipe’s audial and he shrieked at the sensation, writhing ineffectually beneath Ratchet’s foot. He lifted the prod away after only seconds, and Sideswipe sagged in place, panting heavily.

                Ratchet gave him a count of five before using the wand to nudge Sideswipe’s shoulder again. The toy was inactive, but Sideswipe still flinched reflexively.

                “Well?”

                “I’m sssorry, sir. You could… could take my valve again?” Sideswipe offered, weakly wriggling his rear end as counterpoint.  

                “’Sir’? No, I think we’re far past the point of sir,” Ratchet commented, ignoring Sideswipe’s suggestion. “Call me master, and give me something more inventive.”

                Sideswipe’s ventilations choked and his arms strained against his stasis cuffs. “I… I…your pedes…! I could lick them clean. Because… I dribbled lubricant on them earlier, so I… I could clean them for you, sir,” Sideswipe ventured, gaining momentum with every word.

                Ratchet considered the mech shivering beneath Ratchet’s pede. “I rather like that idea…” he drawled. “Not half bad, especially as you are a messy little thing.”

                He removed his pede and Sideswipe automatically started to rise up. Only to yelp as Ratchet’s foot came crashing down, slamming Sideswipe’s cheek back into the floor plating. “It’s a good idea… but you didn’t call me master. Say it, slave.”

                Sideswipe shuddered, whining weakly and straining against Ratchet’s foot. After a moment, he slumped in place, his fingers spasming. “No, sir.”

                Ratchet leaned over, peering down into Sideswipe’s face. “Did you just tell me… ‘no’?” Ratchet asked softly.

                “Yes, sir,” Sideswipe replied, optics tightly shuttered, as if anticipating a blow. Oh, so that was how he wanted to play it tonight, huh?

                “You impertinent little brat. You just earned yourself another beating. I’ll give you one last chance: call me master and I’ll use the whip. If you don’t… I’ll use the prod,” Ratchet said, flicking it on and tracing the humming edge around Sideswipe’s audial again.

                “Say it, you defective little glitch. Say, ‘master’,” Ratchet crooned.

                Sideswipe whimpered, trying to jerk his head aside. “No!”

                “It’s just one little word. Surely your two bit processor can handle that?” Ratchet demanded, grinding his pede down harder in warning. “You’re a slave after all, and I’m your master, and that’s the way that it will always be. Just acknowledge it.”

                “No! Never!” Sideswipe cried out, suddenly thrashing in his bonds. “Red! Redredred, please, Ratchet, _please_!”

                Ratchet immediately stepped back and tossed the offlined prod to the side. He had aimed for the berth, but in his haste, it fell short, clattering loudly against the floor and making Sideswipe jump.

                “Ok, all right, Sideswipe. We’ve stopped. The session is over, Sides,” Ratchet murmured soothingly, reaching down to grab ahold of Sideswipe’s shoulders to help him sit up. But at the touch, Sideswipe jerked away with an anguished moan, falling onto his side with a loud clatter.

                “No, no, no,” he muttered, staring up at Ratchet with optics darkened in fear. There was a feral wildness about him Ratchet had only seen from Sideswipe on the battlefield. His lips were drawn back into a silent snarl and his plating was slicked down tight, every inch of his frame language screaming ‘back away’.

                So Ratchet did just that, holding his hands out to the side and crouching as he backed up. He was about to say something when the door to his quarters burst open, making both Ratchet and Sideswipe jerk in surprise.

                Sunstreaker skidded to a stop a few feet inside the doorway, looking around wildly before he spotted his twin on the floor. “What did you do?” he demanded of Ratchet as he strode forward.

                “I’m not quite sure,” Ratchet admitted, staying very still as Sunstreaker passed by to circle Sideswipe’s upper body and kneel behind him. “The scene was progressing normally until he gave me a safeword. I’m going to close the door, alright?”

                The golden warrior didn’t even spare Ratchet a glance, too focused on unlocking the cuffs pinning Sideswipe’s arms behind his back. Once they were released, he went to work on the spreader bars at his brother’s knees and feet.

                Meanwhile, Ratchet shut the door, shoving it into place now that it wasn’t quite on its track anymore. Then he sat down on the berth, avidly watching Sunstreaker release his twin. Once free he didn’t so much as tug him into his arms as Sideswipe threw himself into his brother’s embrace, shivering so badly that his denta were clattering together.

                Ratchet gave them a minute before speaking up. “Sideswipe? Sideswipe, where are you?”

                The red twin chuffed out a weak laugh against his brother’s neck. “I know where I am, Ratch. In your quarters in the Ark.”

                “May I approach?”

                Sideswipe shuddered, his grip on his twin tightening, but he nodded. “Yeah. But not behind me.”

                “Of course,” Ratchet replied amiably, and made his way across the short distance separating them. Ratchet made sure to shuffle his feet along the flooring and take his time, ignoring the glare Sunstreaker was giving him. Finally, he knelt a little ways from the golden twin, regarding Sideswipe’s still tucked up form.

                “I’m here. Can you tell me what happened?” Ratchet asked gently.

                Sideswipe made a muffled noise before turning his head to look at Ratchet. The frontliner’s face was lined with exhaustion, his optics dim. “I don’t… I don’t have a lot of limits, you know that. But that’s gotta be one of them from now on.”

                Ratchet tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Can you be more specific?”

                “That word… I won’t…” Sideswipe said through gritted denta. He shook his head sharply, shuttering his optics. “Never again. I _won’t_.”

                He shook even harder and it was instinct for Ratchet to reach out, to comfort. “Of cou… _Sunstreaker_.”

                Ratchet twisted his arm, but his wrist was firmly caught in Sunstreaker’s grip. “Don’t touch him,” Sunstreaker rumbled.

                Sideswipe’s optics flew open and he struggled back out of his brother’s embrace. “Stop, Sunny, let him go. It wasn’t his fault.”

                “You _screamed_ for me,” Sunstreaker retorted and now that the twins had separated somewhat, Ratchet could see that Sunstreaker was shaking nearly as badly as his brother. Nevertheless, he released Ratchet’s wrist and he let his arm fall back to his side.

                “I didn’t mean to. It just… it brought back some bad memories,” Sideswipe finished with a shrug, giving both his brother and Ratchet an apologetic look.

                “Can you go into any more detail that that?” Ratchet asked carefully. “I don’t want to trigger you again if there’s more than just the use of that one word.”

                Sideswipe dropped his gaze to his hands, and bit his lower lip. “Not right now. Later, when it’s not as fresh.”

                Ratchet nodded. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. What else can I do for you?”

                He desperately wanted to draw Sideswipe into his arms but that couldn’t be rushed. Sideswipe had had a bad enough flashback that he had called out for his twin in unconscious desperation. It wasn’t a stretch to say that Sideswipe was likely going to associate this episode with Ratchet for a while. Sideswipe would have to come to Ratchet at his own pace.

                Almost as if reading Ratchet’s mind, Sideswipe pointed to the space between them. “Can I come over there?”

                Even as Ratchet nodded, Sunstreaker tightened his fingers on Sideswipe’s arm, optics flashing. “Seriously?”

                “It’s not his fault, Sunny,” Sideswipe repeated wearily. “My processor knows that, but I have to remind my body of it; my instincts are all weird now.”

                “I’m not leaving,” Sunstreaker stated, frowning over at Ratchet in clear challenge.

                “I didn’t ask you to,” Sideswipe replied, untangling himself from his brother. Still on his knees, he shuffled towards Ratchet, pausing every few seconds as if watching for any signs he should flinch away. Ratchet made sure to give him none, sitting absolutely still with his hands in plain view.

                Finally, Sideswipe’s knees brushed Ratchet’s own. With one last glance at Ratchet’s face, Sideswipe leaned forward, sliding his arms around Ratchet’s waist and snuggling against his chest. He embraced Ratchet without any hesitation, but small tremors still wracked his frame. Still remaining frozen, Ratchet allowed his EM field to unfurl, gently brushing against Sideswipe’s.

                “I’m sorry,” Ratchet murmured as Sideswipe’s field tentatively pressed back against his own.

                “Still not your fault,” Sideswipe whispered back, relaxing against Ratchet in micrometer intervals. Yet still relaxing, none the less. “I didn’t know I would react that way, so how could you?”

                “I should have caught it earlier,” Ratchet replied, the guilt finally catching up with him. “I thought you were resisting because you wanted me to work you over.”

                “I did,” Sideswipe replied with a choked little laugh. “I kept pushing all evening, after all. I probably wouldn’t have caught it either, not with someone I had only worked with once before.”

                “Still…I have more years’ experience…” Ratchet started, but Sideswipe made a fist with one of his hands and thumped it against Ratchet’s back.

                “Stop. Everyone makes mistakes, no matter how many times we’ve done this. This wasn’t even a mistake, really; I’ve already forgiven you,” Sideswipe said firmly.

                Ratchet caught the look of disbelief on Sunstreaker’s face and thought his own might mirror the same expression. “And yet you’re still shaking,” he gently pointed out.

                Sideswipe growled, rearing back far enough to shove Ratchet sideways onto his hip. He nearly toppled over completely, but he was close enough to the wall that he landed against it. “Sideswipe!”

                The red twin pushed at Ratchet’s legs and then began crawling forward with a look of determination on his faceplates. “I’m shaking because I just flashbacked into one of the worst moments of my life,” Sideswipe explained. “And I’m coming down from that in _your_ arms.”

                Within seconds, Ratchet had a lapful of Sideswipe, the warrior’s long legs wrapping around Ratchet’s waist just as his arms did around Ratchet’s shoulders. “If I didn’t trust you, I’d already be gone,” Sideswipe grumbled. “Now fragging hold me.”

                “Well, as your majesty commands,” Ratchet replied, a little relieved at the imperious demand. Sideswipe was obviously in full control of his processor by this point; he was _choosing_ to be with Ratchet. So he gently encompassed Sideswipe with his arms and held him close, letting Sideswipe readjust to his presence.

                “And your brother?”

                Ratchet looked over Sideswipe’s shoulder at Sunstreaker, the golden twin staring at the two of them with squinted optics. He seemed a little less angry, but Ratchet could tell he was nowhere near as relaxed with the situation as his brother was. Ratchet couldn’t blame him. The twins were incredibly protective of one another and to feel Sideswipe panic during only his second session with Ratchet had to be raising all kind of warning flags for Sunstreaker.

                “He’s got my back,” Sideswipe replied softly, burrowing even closer.

                Ratchet merely tightened his grip on the trembling mech in his lap. Sideswipe was willing enough to crawl into Ratchet’s embrace, but yet he didn’t send his brother away. Was the trust between them still as strong as Sideswipe said it was?

               

~ End


End file.
